


Sand, Sky, and Sun

by eyepatchempress



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comma Abuse, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Sunsets, sand abuse, too many mentions of sand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8257090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyepatchempress/pseuds/eyepatchempress
Summary: The lovely Fareeha Amari and the reader fall in love. Or more accurately, the reader has loved Fareeha for awhile, but it took awhile for something to actually happen.





	1. Sand

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, Pharah is so beautiful it hurts.
> 
> (and I don't have anyone to share my secret crushes with, so no one's read this before y'all have ♥)

There was a memory that you couldn't shake, no matter what you did, and it had hung around in your mind for weeks, crystal clear. Despite the passing time, it didn't fade in the slightest. There wasn't a single aspect that you were unsure of, not a single hair or grain of sand out of place.

There were certain places that time had forgotten, and the Temple of Anubis was no exception. It had sat solely against the desert for centuries before it eventually trapped between the city and sand.

But anyone standing where you were wouldn't be able to tell that anything had changed in past hundred years. With your back to the Temple, facing your teammates, there was barely a trace of anything that wasn't sand or sky.

Your teammates were all in various states of fatigue, some more than others. Reinhardt was running through his routine of post battle stretches as Angela was talking to him, but her light laugh was the only thing you could hear. Maybe if you had tried to listen, you could have heard what she was saying, but you couldn't seem to pry your eyes away from the last member of the group, standing away from the rest.

In her trademark blue armour, and still wearing her helmet, Fareeha Amari stood off to the side, looking out and away at the dunes.

She didn't have her blaster with her, but it couldn't have been far. If you could have looked away, you would have seen it off to the side, leaning against a sandstone pillar, in a way that seemed as if it belonged there, even thousands of years ago.

She reached up with both hands and took off her helmet, before tucking it casually under an arm. Her hair freed, she shook it with the other arm, sending her hair into the air like grains of sand in the wind. The golden ornament that hung in her hair bounced along, reflecting light in way that made it seem to glow. The heat of the late afternoon sun reflected off of the sand and stone of the city, but by looking at her you would have thought it was a smooth walk down the street, with maybe a gust of wind now and then.

And like her blaster, even her armour didn't clash with the Egyptian temple. The deep blue, set against the burning yellow sky and sand, fit right in, as if she was a guardian crafted especially for the temple, thousands of years ago. Only with the utmost care had lapis lazuli been used to give her colour and bring her to life.

But under the mechanized suit, the wearer was as beautiful. Although some might call her features angular, you saw her as more than one little descriptor. Her nose was sharp, but refined, as if it had been made from marble, and while her eyes had a certain fierce quality, you sensed she still smiled from time to time. Even her tattoo was this perfect mixture of harsh and soft.

Fareeha looked back over her shoulder, maybe to check on the exhausted McCree, or Satya, who was impatiently fanning herself with a quickly but well constructed fan, but instead her eyes locked with yours.

Caught staring, you couldn't look away not matter how hard you tried. Even looking back now, you couldn't tell if it had been the force in her eyes, or your lack of strength that had sustained it. 

But it ended as abruptly as it had started when Fareeha turned back forward.

You were supposed to feel butterflies when you were nervous, everyone knew that. But you didn't feel butterflies now. Instead, you felt as if you had swallowed a cup of sand from the very desert that Fareeha was watching over now. And while your throat was dry, whether from the dusty air or from whatever you were feeling, your stomach was full of countless grains of sand, drifting from wall to wall carried on the wind.

Butterflies would have been a gentle excitement; their wings leaving an invisible haze of powder in their wake, leaving their mark, you felt no such thing. This sand you could feel moving around inside of you had no concept of gentle. It knew only how to be a deep and incessant reminder that something had happened.

And now, that sunset back in Egypt, was yet again stuck in a loop, playing in your mind, as your feet dangled off the end of the pedestrian bridge on the base in Gibraltar. If you closed your eyes, you could be in Egypt, with the orange glow through your eyelids that felt almost the same. All you were missing was the sand and its scent.

"It's beautiful, isn't it," a gentle voice said, interrupting Angela's laughter as she spoke to Reinhardt. There was no feeling of loss as it disappeared, and there never had been. The memory was embedded in you well enough that it didn't need even a moment's notice before it could be revisited.

Fareeha stood next to you, wearing her armor and helmet, but with the visor raised. She raised her hands to remove the helmet, but lingered for an instant before taking it off. Fareeha placed the helmet between her and you on the bridge, and stood back up, looking out over the water.

"I was running some tests on the Raptora suit, but it seemed a waste to miss out," she explained, even though she didn't need to.

You stood back up, next to her on the bridge. The suit wouldn't allow her to sit down completely, and you wanted to see the same view she was seeing, so you could have a memory just the two of you shared together. Faint wisps of the clouds drifted by as the sun dipped lower and lower underneath the water.

"I like this," you said, maybe by accident.

"I enjoy this as well," she agreed, turning to look at you. The corners of her lips were upturned, slightly, but that alone was enough to start a sandstorm in your stomach.

"I would like to have more time like this with you," Fareeha said, looking into you in a way that no one would be able to again. Delicately, she took your hands in hers and held them. The suit felt only like an extension of her, and it felt perfectly right. "But only if you feel the same way."

When your face lit up, and hers did in return, you didn't even have to speak a single word.

You thought she looked the same as she did on the mission in Egypt, her standing there, lit up by the sunset. But instead of her looking off over the sand, she was looking at you, and that made all the difference.

Maybe you didn't need the sand anyway.


	2. Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha and the reader go on a short, but sweet date.

Fareeha and you managed to get leave from the base without much hassle a couple of weeks after watching the sunset together. Neither of you would just call it "watching the sunset", but that was fine.

Leave off of the base meant wandering through the small town near the base, perched precariously atop a cliff. No matter the season, the thick and heavy smell of salt leaked into every corner of the town, indoors and out. As if weighed down by the salted air, the whole town moved in slow motion, and daily life was peaceful but monotonous.

It was a farming community mainly, with a handful of small shops and restaurants that somehow managed to stay afloat. The bar would never be in trouble, McCree and Reinhardt more than assured that, but you always wondered how the café stayed open. But at the very least, the café was quaint and well looked after.

Fareeha knew the waitress by name, and didn't have to give an order. You didn't drink much tea, or coffee for that matter, so you were a little flustered when the waitress asked for your order. After a quick moment, Fareeha hesitantly offered up an order, but looked at you for approval. You nodded gratefully and the waitress left, notepad in hand.

Fareeha was sat across from you. The wrought iron table had only a hint of rust, but the glass top was crystal clear, and it was obvious a lot of pride went into cleaning it. Except for the kitchen, the entirety of the café was outdoors, letting you take advantage of the beautiful weather.

The smoothly blurred blues of the sky above reminded you of a watercolour painting as Fareeha drummed her fingers softly on the edge of the table, waiting patiently for the tea that the two of you had ordered. The rhythm wasn't exactly even, but it rolled on smoothly enough.

Her blue faux leather jacket fit her like a glove, showing off every curve she had, and the thin gold bangles that hung around her wrist softened her edges ever so slightly. It all complemented her well enough that you couldn't help but appreciate it. Her theme, the blue and gold, worked wherever she was, and whatever she was doing.

"You're staring," she said, without a hint of a complaint.

"You know I can't help myself," you said, as the tea was set down in front of you, in a shaky but decisive manner by the waitress.

Your tea was lighter than Fareeha's but she drank tea more often than you did and preferred it stronger. She cradled the cup in a hand as she drank from it, a habit you guessed she learned from her mother.

In near silence, the two of you drank your tea, while the waves crashed against the far away cliff the town was built upon. The waves, in their rhythmic rocking, were white noise that warmed you almost as much as the tea did. You couldn't see the ocean, but surely it was as blue as the sky above you.

With your cup nearly drained, although you hadn't realized it, you looked up at Fareeha across the table. Her cup was freshly empty, and a couple of stray leaves lined the bottom of the ornate cup.  
In a fluid motion, her hand cut though the salty air and landed on top of yours. Her hand, warmed by the tea, was smooth and pleasant, and although it was a simple gesture, you couldn't hold back a smile. There was no reason not to.

Fareeha stood up before you and rummaged through her purse. She pulled out more than enough money to pay for the tea and a generous tip and left it on the table. She slid the bills underneath an empty cup to hold it down, and the two of you started the winding walk back to the base.

Walking down the dirt road back to the base, Fareeha grabbed your pinky finger with hers and they swung together in unison. There was premeditation in the action, it was purely casual and natural. It was just a light link, holding the two of you together.

"Ahh, there's the base," you said, pointing with your free hand towards the horizon. In the distance the base had become visible, but there was awhile left to go before you were on the official grounds. "I can't believe we're already so close."

Suddenly, Fareeha abruptly stopped walking, and the link of your pinkies broke. Before you had any time to react, she reached out and took your wrist in her hand. She pulled on your wrist, drawing you closer towards her.

"I'm glad we're so close as well," she said smiling, close enough to you that the tips of your noses could have touched. But it wasn't your noses that touched, but your lips as Fareeha leaned in towards you, slowly but with determination, like a hunter stalking its prey.

The kiss was gentle, but passionate as you gripped onto her jacket, bringing her closer to you. What struck you the most about the kiss was how much you could sense. You could feel Fareeha's heartbeat trying to maintain a solid beat and you could smell her distinct scent, jasmine, freshly cut grass, and hint of something you couldn't name, but natural. Lost in her, you couldn't tell how much time had passed.

"Oy!" A loud yelp rung out from down the road, and the two of you separated as quickly as you had come together. "No inappropriate conduct on base, you two. You know Morrison will have both your asses on lockdown for the next two months!" The last couple of words were singsong, and her voice rung out loudly despite how far away she was.

"We're not on the base yet, Lena!" You shouted back, cupping your mouth with a hand. Hands on her hips, Lena shook her head in mock disapproval, but less than a second later, she blinked off past you on the road, presumably taking her leave in the town.

You checked back on Fareeha, who looked guilty for having been caught, but not at all embarrassed.

"Lena won't say anything," you assured her.

"It doesn't matter," she said, shrugging it off. "I had a wonderful time with you today, and that is all that matters."

And with that, she took your hand again and the two of you walked the final stretch to the base, only letting go of each other at the last possible second.


	3. Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither of you were planning on watching TV, and so you didn't.

The base at Gibraltar had a couple of rec rooms scattered around, hidden in plain sight. Most of them had been meeting rooms at one point or another, but since Overwatch was only a fraction of the size it had once been, there was no point in keeping them empty and unused. And while the paint in the corners was flaking, the rooms were used by almost everyone on base, even if they didn't let on too much about it.

McCree had mentioned bringing in a poker table in to one of the rooms, but you didn't know if he had actually gone through with it. Not that you'd ever want to play against, or rather lose money to McCree.

Regardless of that, right now you were in one of the rec rooms that was set off to side, down a hallway that didn't see a lot of use.

Fareeha had draped her arm around your shoulder earlier on, pulling you closer to her on the couch. The laugh track echoed hollowly in the background, but you couldn't say what the joke was. Your focus drifted from the TV to Fareeha and your eyes meet hers, which were looking down at you.

"You're not watching the show?" You asked innocently enough, with only the slightest hint of a smile.

"You're not either," she murmured, looking back at the TV.

"I just like being here," you breathed, running your fingertips in a loose circle on her stomach. "Next to you."

"Ahh," she breathed out gently. "I see." And as softly as she spoke, her hand slipped down your body from your shoulder to your waist, her smallest finger just touching your hip bone.

Hesitantly, Fareeha said your name and you said hers, and nothing else had to be said. You bounced away from her on the couch, giving yourself enough room to maneuver before you rolled and swung a leg over the both of hers.

Her hands, barely calloused, found the bottom of your shirt, and glided up your body. As they skimmed upwards they brought the bunched fabric with them, revealing your body to both the chilled air and to her.

You wasted no time in taking her shirt off in a similar manner, and this left each of you simply breathing and appreciating the other's body. Despite her well built frame, Fareeha seemed fragile. Maybe it because she was smaller than when was wearing her armour, or maybe it was because you could see every square inch of her, and you were the only one who had that privilege.

Both of your pants had vanished at some point, but neither of you could say exactly when. Actually, looking at it now, all you had on was your underwear, but it was far too late to be self-conscious. Fareeha running her open mouth across your breasts as you slipped off your own underwear with a single thumb. You could see her trying to watch as you slid out of them, and you filed that away as important information.

Your bodies moved together expertly, like either they had been made for each other, or they had been ready for this for years. It took no time at all until Fareeha was contently settled between your thighs, moving around tentatively. One hand on your thigh and one hand moving around her own body, little noises escaped her mouth. Or maybe that was you.

But evidently she knew you better than you knew yourself, as within a couple of minutes you could already feel a soft yet urgent heat begin to build. It began where she was focusing attention on and it grew far up inside of you until you couldn't point out exactly where you were feeling it. Somewhere below and behind your stomach, you would think. You were certain you had it pinned down until she made you tense, and then it was a little lower, or a little more to the right. But then finally, instead of moving around, the feeling began too much to bear. Your entire body was warm, as if it was being roasted by the sun.

"No, Fareeha, not yet," you breathed, clutching the firm but crumbling foam of the couch cushion with the hand that wasn't buried in her hair. Trying to distract yourself, you thought of the individual beige crumbs of the cushion falling to the rec room floor. They would be falling gracefully, you thought, like feathers, or grains of sand. Involuntarily, you clenched a little as Fareeha swept across a particularly sensitive area. Ever aware, she continued to lap at the same spot until you let out a weak whine and you shuddered against her grasp.

You didn't mean to unravel so quickly, and so easily, but it crept up on you in a way you couldn't hope to resist. You jerked against her face in a way that could only be described as embarrassing, as you whispered her name over and over again. As you regained control over your body, Fareeha held onto your legs firmly and drew simple patterns with her damp nose across your skin. Needfully, you reached down and found her, and you took her for yourself in your hands.

"Mhmm," you hummed, tracing your fingers across her face. They glided without an issue across her nose and jaw and lower cheeks before you cupped her head. You guided her up the expanse of your body until her chin rested near your navel, and each breath raised and lowered her. "I love you," you told her, fixing her hair behind her ear.

"I love you too," she replied, speak into your stomach. If your skin was glass, you thought, her breath would have completely fogged it up.

"C'mon," you urged her, "lemme show you."

"Next time," she said, backing away from you. "We shouldn't even have done this here." The stress on the last word stirred up a dull ache deep inside of you.

"But there'll be a next time?" You asked, grinning as you fumbled around looking for your clothes.

"Of course," she replied, turning back to face you. She tugged on her shirt before surprising you with a light kiss before she returned to getting dressed. You could taste yourself on her lips and suddenly you wondered how she tasted, and how she would sound when you were between her legs.

But as you plucked a tissue from the coffee table and handed it to her, and watched as she wiped the last evidence of what had happened off of her face, you knew you wouldn't have to wait long to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for putting up with me for a little over 3000 words! But more importantly, for putting up with 340 commas... (Is there counselling for comma abusers?)


End file.
